


Playing With Fire

by skywalkerssolo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Porn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Violence, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Cheating, Death Eaters, F/M, Finger Sucking, Fluff and Angst, Graphic Violence, Hand & Finger Kink, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Infidelity, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Love Triangles, Non-Graphic Violence, Oral Sex, Past Abuse, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Smut, Unrequited Love, Violence, implied childhood abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:48:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26446591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skywalkerssolo/pseuds/skywalkerssolo
Summary: The one and only daughter of Voldemort, you were adopted into a life full of violence, mischief and evil. The head of the Death Eaters, you count down the days until your father is, once again, complete and whole. Under your wing are two men you've always desired: Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape. When your lust becomes love, and your love is shot down, it will take a village to calm your rage.
Relationships: Bellatrix Black Lestrange/Original Female Character(s), Lucius Malfoy/Original Character(s), Lucius Malfoy/Original Female Character(s), Lucius Malfoy/Reader, Narcissa Malfoy/Original Character(s), Severus Snape/Original Character(s), Severus Snape/Original Female Character(s), Severus Snape/Reader, Tom Riddle | Voldemort/Original Character(s), Tom Riddle | Voldemort/Original Female Character(s), Voldemort/Reader
Comments: 19
Kudos: 83
Collections: Snape and Reader Collection





	1. No Rest for the Wicked

In the dimly lit dining hall of Malfoy Manor, conversation was bustling, the clinking of pure silver forks and knives against fine china filling the air with a certain sense of delectable refinement. At the head of the table, in an elegantly carved mahogany chair, sticking out like a sore thumb, sat _you_ \- (Y/N) Riddle. Barely twenty years old, your beauty was a sight for sore eyes, a freshly painted picture in a room full of scarred faces and unshaved cheeks. 

"When is Severus going to arrive?" Lucius snarled from beside you, the chair next to him empty, awaiting the esteemed Severus Snape. " _What's_ holding him back?!"

"Trying to make his way past Dumbledore, no doubt." You sneered, taking a drink from the diamond encrusted goblet full of dripping wine, the color of freshly spilled blood running from your tongue and hitting the back of your throat in an oddly sensual way, the taste making your mind beg for more. You filled the cup up once more with a simple glance, tapping your long nails against the side of the table. "While we wait for our last visitor, tell me..."

Everyone quieted down, leaning in to hear your voice. It was soft and seductive, in a way no other in the room quite was. Your words had an air of childlike playfulness to them, each rise of your eyebrow and click of your tongue more flirtatious than the next. You were young and fiercely intelligent, and you knew exactly what you wanted and, for many in the room, that was more fearsome than Voldemort himself could ever be. 

You licked your lips, devouring the attention that fell upon you. "Why is it...that my father still hasn't returned? And _that_ boy still lives?"

"Well these things take time." Someone spoke from the back quietly. 

"These things...take time?" You nearly giggled at the prospect, standing up slowly. Your dress fell to the floor, and now- if not before- all eyes certainly were on you. You were gorgeous, you had been for many years, but _especially_ tonight. The dinner gown was elegant, the way you were, and fell from your shoulders and on to the floor, the train dragging behind you. The deep v-neck of the collar dipped down deeply, nearly hitting your belly button, showing off your soft skin that seemed almost dewey in the ethereal moonlight. The gown was a deep emerald green, stunning on the eyes, and mixing with the tint of your hair beautifully, as if the color of the silk fabric was made for you and you alone. Your heels clicked against the hard floor as you walked towards the man, your hands slithering onto his broad shoulder. "That's what they said about murder." You whispered in his ear, your scarlet lips gently bushing against his skin. You felt him shiver beneath you. 

"I-I was only-I-"

"You were only what, dear boy? _Taking your time_?" You stood up straight again and smoothed out the thighs of your gown, making your way around the table as you wielded your wand. Your wand was your most prized posession. Twelve inches long, and made of yew wood and the heartstring of a Ukranian Ironbelly Dragon, it was as powerful as it was beautiful, allowing you to wield immense strength and skill. 

The door to the dining hall creaked open, and Severus stormed inside, his hair framing his face as it swayed and his black capes billowing behind him with each step he took. He looked angry, as if something had upset him, and your lips curved into a snake like smile at the prospect of aggravating him. He silently took his seat beside Lucius, and you sat down at your spot once again, staring at him intensely. Snape didn't so much as glance your way, slowly sipping from the goblet before him. 

"Sev?" You sang, your mouth quirking into a flirty little grin. "Sevey, my darling, where were you? We meet, at the same time, the same place...surely your sense of direction hasn't failed you?" You gently tapped your fingers against his skin, your ring adorned fingers glimmering in the chandeliers light. 

"It...has not." He murmured deeply, finally meeting your gaze. Each time your eyes met, you felt a powerful stirring in your body, and you knew what that feeling was. Unfortunately, he wasn't the only man you felt that with, the other was right beside him, his back raised and his posture perfect. 

"Then why, oh why, did you take so long to arrive? We're nearly on to dessert."

"I have another job, you know. I don't just sit around a file my nails." He raised an eyebrow, a sassy shrug thrown your way as he took a bite of the chicken before him. 

You giggled softly, shaking your head. "Oh, you always know what to say, don't you?"

Lucius sneered, jabbing Severus in the side. Between the both of them, Lucius was more of a gentleman, Severus never quite learned how to hold his tongue. You ordered a round of dessert, rubbing your hands together with a yawn. 

"Really, people, I call these meetings yet you have nothing to say. Has anything happened? What shall we tell my father when he returns? I can't do all the work myself, you know!" You exclaimed, bursting out at how quiet it had become since the arrival of a certain potions professor. "Severus, how is our wonder boy doing?"

"He's as prideful as his father and dim witted as his mother was." He hissed bitterly, his coal black eyes narrowing in to dagger like slits. "All he ever does is boast, completely unaware of...the future that waits for him."

"Well," You clapped your hands together, smiling widely. "That's good news, isn't it?"

"The best of news, my Lady." Lucius grinned, his eyebrow quirking upright. He fiddled with a ring upon his thumb, smiling when a plate of poached pears with cherry syrup was placed in front of him, a dessert almost as elegant as himself. 

"Yes, it definitely is." You watched him take a bite, your eyes narrowing as you saw his lips wrap around the silver spoon, your gaze darkening with heated desire. 

Severus, in turn, watched the way you looked at him, his eyebrows furrowing together as he felt the familiar scourge of jealousy rush through his veins, his heart pumping with the same desire you felt, only this time it was all for you. 

" _Stop staring_." You heard Snape's voice fill your head and you nearly glowered, taking a bite of your food as well. 

" _Make me_." You taunted back silently.

" _I'll make you if you join me after dinner_?"

" _Flirting with me, Professor Snape, when you arrived late for the third time in a row? I knew you had a soft spot for Dumbledore, but I didn't know he encouraged it. Whatever were you two doing? Is he your boyfriend now? When I'm right here, it's such a shame_."

Severus rolled his eyes, drinking from the cup once more. " _I had work to finish up. I told you, and I don't lie to beautiful women. Think of it as...a code...of conduct."_

"You two stop doing that!" Lucius ordered, and both of you turned to look at him. 

"What?" You asked in unison. 

"I know you're using Legilimency!" Lucius jealously spewed, before he realized he was talking back to you, of all people. He let out a nervous chuckle, wringing his hands against the napkin that sat on his lap. "Not all of us can be so...wise in the ways of wizardry. It's quite obvious who the two most powerful people are at this table. A witch as...talented as you shouldn't waste your skills on a man like Severus."

You heightened your eyebrows, giggling with glee. Two men? Jealous over you? When all this time you thought they didn't, couldn't, feel the same way. "And who do you propose I spend my time on, Lucius?"

Lucius nodded his head a bit. "I thought you would never ask, my Lady."

"And what of Narcissa?" Snape inquired, and you slapped your knee with a loud, shrill laugh. 

"There it is!" You exclaimed, Lucius' wife nowhere to be found on this particular evening. She wasn't normally apart of these meetings but, every once and awhile, you assumed you would see here. Especially considering this was her home. "And what of your darling wife, Lucius?"

"She's out with Bellatrix, trying to find Sirius Black."

Severus' face soured at the name. "Don't speak of that gargoyle, Malfoy."

"Yes, don't speak of him in a place as holy as this, Lucius." You quirked a little look shot his way, as if telling him not to poke and pry at your darling Snape. "This dining hall is for dining, dark magic, and fucking. Surely you know that, of your own Manor?"

"Indeed I do." He smirked, raising his glass in a soft toast, before drinking a deep gulp. 

Soon, the meeting ended, and you let everyone go with a wave of your hand. 

You found yourself walking in to the courtyard, the winter air making you shiver with anticipation, a smile spreading across your face. You loved winter, the way the untouched snow looked so pure and innocent, the way you weren't. A heavy sigh tumbled from your mouth as you sat on a cement bench in the garden, the wilted flowers eerily beautifully in the moonlight that bathed them, sculpted statues of Malfoy ancestors lining the tall hedge bushes and dead roses. You gently picked a withered rose, turning it over in your shaking fingers, the soft prick of a snagged thorn causing your skin to bleed. You let the blood drip, mixing with the white of the ground, before a door opening behind you snapped you from your thoughts. 

"(Y/N)." A deep voice called for you, and the slow drawl of his syllables was recognizable to you immediately. Even in another world, another life, the depth of Severus Snape's voice would always be something you'd remember. 

"Sev." You greeted softly, turning to him with a smile. 

Snape, completely truthfully, really did find you beautiful. Your smile was as white as pearls and as dazzling as diamonds, and your eyes held a look that was, in the simplest of terms, _classy_. You always smelled like cinnamon infused vanilla and sandalwood, your hair was always washed and perfectly styled, and your skin was always incredibly clear and soft as a silk pillow case. Any man would fall for your smile, for your beauty, that was a given, but Severus liked your wit much more. The way you were smarter than anyone he had ever known, with your perfectly timed responses and your perfect solution for every type of situation that could arise. Your determination was the sexiest thing he had ever seen, with your thoughts dominated by your thirst for power and your intensely feminine prowess. 

"Your mind is moving a mile a minute." You pointed out, watching as he sat beside you. Snape shrugged his cape off, wrapping it around your shoulders. 

"You're cold." He murmured, his warm fingers gently brushing across your ice cold shoulders, your skin chilling to the bone. 

"Well, it is November in Wiltshire." You grinned, leaning closer against him. 

"The Tri-Wizard Tournament ends soon. The perfect opportunity for Voldemort to return."

"Yes...for my father to return." You mirrored, kicking some snow with the tip of your shiny black heels. 

"What's the matter?" Snape looked at you, his eyes full of authentic concern, as he watched a strand of hair fall from your loosening braid and in to your face. Slowly, almost as if he were hesitant about it, he pushed the piece of hair behind your ears, adorned with hanging Grandidierite earrings that complimented the tone of your skin beautifully. He took note of the rouge on your cheeks, figuring you'd look just as good without it, if not even better. 

You took in a sharp breath, knowing the moment the words left your lips, you'd most likely be cursed or struck down or...something or another. "I don't know if you can tell, but I quite like being in charge."

The smallest of grins took over his face, and he turned to face you. "Do you really?"

"I hide it well, don't I?"

"I never would have guessed if not for you...telling me." He enunciated, his face glowing in the light of the moon. Severus was older than you by quite some time, yet there was something about him that was simply irresistible. The dryness of his humor and the bluntness of his speech was incredibly attractive to you, and you enjoyed the way his eyes held the most emotion in the simplest of ways. His micro-expressions were something you had learned and figured much about, and you could tell when he was angry, happy, indifferent, sad...all with a simple tilt of his mouth or narrowing of his eyes. Severus was truly something else, and that you knew quite well. 

"Of course not." You played along, gently resting your head on his shoulder. It was the most mundane of tasks, yet both you and him suddenly became quite nervous about it. "Are you in my head?" You asked quietly, your voice soft in the night air. 

"No." He answered truthfully. "Are you in mine?"

"No." 

You two sat there, just for a while, watching the stars twinkle overhead. 

Early morning was arriving. The pocket watch Severus had stated 4:42 AM, and both of you knew you had duties to attend to the next day, and the day after. You stood up, stretching your arms as he followed suit. "I'll see you next week, Severus."

"Same to you, (Y/N)."

You gently kissed his cheek, watching as he walked off, before you made your way into the Malfoy Manor once more. You spent most of your days there, arguing with Narcissa, conversing with the house elves, and making fun of Draco each time he came back. Lucius was typically busy, but you got along best with him when he was around. Your humor, conversation and interests were compatible, and he was quite easy on the eyes- as if you'd _ever_ complain about that. 

When you walked in to the den, you expected everyone to be asleep, for the house to be so quiet you could hear the footstep of a mouse- yet that was not the case. A record scratched against the desk, playing soft classical music that you knew you had heard before, long ago- probably in a dream, maybe in another life. Lucius sat in a dark green and black styled chair that resembled a throne fit for a king. 

"Have a good time?" He sneered behind a crystal glass of brandy, raising a platinum eyebrow. 

"Yes. We made love in your yard all night and talked ill of you." You responded sarcastically, taking a sit on the couch beside him. You watched as he took a puff from his pipe, shapes of skulls and swirls carved into the pure white colored bones. 

"Always so quick to make a comeback." He looked at you, watching as you leaned towards him. 

"Lucius?"

"My Lady?"

"Are you _jealous_ of Severus?" The words dripped with venom from your tongue, you (E/C) eyes narrowing in to his own. 

Lucius gulped, his face paling momentarily, before he turned to face you. His eyes held no remorse, no fond emotion. They were cold as ice, electric as lightening, and within them there stirred a nasty emotion. Envy. "Me? jealous of that dungeon bat?" Lucius sneered venomously, standing up straighter before taking a step towards you. His long, seemingly skilled, fingers grasped the silver head of his cane, his eyes peering into your own. In that moment, he seemed like the boss instead of you- and it made your blood boil with rage. "I have more in my bedroom wardrobe than that man has in his entire house. I have riches and beauty, power and status, strength and determination...and _what_ does _that_ _man_ have?" Lucius towered over you, as tall as a building, shadowing your eyes from the fire which roared in the fire place behind him. "Now," he began with a humorless laugh, "I know you- the great and powerful (Y/N) Riddle- don't truly believe I am jealous of Severus Snape, the man who's doomed to spend his life teaching snotty, bratty little children!"

You clicked your tongue, not allowing his words to get to you, or appear to have even reached you. You stood, finally facing him, your bodies mere inches apart. With each breath, you could practically feel Lucius brushing against you. With the tip of a perfectly filed nail, you traced down the middle of his expensive satin pajama top, your finger tracing out the ridges of each button and every crevice. "You speak like a true jealous type."

You walked past him, raising an eyebrow towards him when you reached the entrance, your hand grasping the edge. "Severus Snape is as much of a man as you, Monsieur Malfoy." You seether bitterly, your teeth dragging across your rose tinted lower lip. "If it means anything, I would have sex with both of you." 

Lucius groaned, rolling his eyes as he watched you walk away. 

You found your room, at the end of the dark hall on the third floor, and walked inside. 

The walls were covered by a dark floral pattern, a four corner posted bed stood in the middle, expensively delicious looking side tables setting high and proud on each side. A wide, double set wardrobe imported from Japan stood directly across from it, including a large, deep chest at the end of the bed. The covers were a silky sort of material, the color of the night sky, with throw pillows as expensive as ball gowns thrown atop. Glancing at yourself in the mirror which stood proud in the corner, you undressed from your dress, carefully hanging it up in the wardrobe before walking to the bed and sliding beneath the covers. 

Against your legs, the soft duvet brushed your skin, and you let out a quiet breath of air, allowing your thoughts to run wild. Did you miss your father? Did you _love_ your father? You pondered deeply, truly trying to catch hold of your feelings. Voldemort was never really there for you as a child, he only conceived you so his blood line would continue. Did anyone really have children for reasons beside that? You gulped, shaking the thought away. Most of your childhood was spent in various training booths and expensive schools for wizards. You would duel with powerful wizards and witches, brew powerful spells, and eat, speak, and breathe in whatever your father would teach you. To say you were groomed to become evil was more of an understatement than anything else that could be said. 

When your father returned, you wondered if he would be proud of your work. After all, you assembled the death eaters. You put together the team, taught them his ways, told them of his plans. You were the one who went along with each order he had given, you were the one who made sure Snape told you of everything that happened behind the walls of Hogwarts. 

Truly, you wondered, would he _really_ be proud of you? Did you... _want_ him to be? Your mind was moving hundreds of miles an hour, rushing with thoughts and feelings you had never truly explored too deeply, yet something about tonight was pushing you to feel and think for yourself. 

Perhaps you had had too much wine at dinner, perhaps you had just been overthinking from lack of sleep. Whatever the reason, you didn't quite like all of these thoughts. Yet you continued to feel for them, think on them, ponder about their secret truths. 

It wasn't until the sun came up over south of England that your eyes finally fluttered closed, and you allowed sleep to take over your body. 

When morning came, you had only slept five or so hours, but the clock at the end of the room screamed ten AM towards you. With a huff, you swung your legs over the side of the bed, yawning as you outreached your arms. Through the floors beneath you, you could hear the faint conversing in a parlor. You flipped through the clothes which hung before you, finally just settling on your black robe, the sleeves long and puffy, and the bodice nearly sheer. 

Walking down, you saw Lucius with Bellatrix, Narcissa in the corner pouring tea. 

"Look who it is, sissy." Bellatrix grinned, walking towards you and kissing your cheek. You returned the gesture, smiling at Narcissa from over her sisters shoulder. 

"Narcissa."

She gave you a faint smile. "(Y/N)." She greeted. 

"Sorry we couldn't make your little meeting. Old family. You know how it is." She waved her hand and giggle, sitting down and getting a cup of tea. "We had the best family reunion."

"He nearly killed you, Bella." Narcissa frowned to herself and shook her head, sitting down close to her sibling. You took a cup of tea and sat across from them, beginning a conversation on a different topic, but you didn't really know where it would lead. Lucius would barely look you in the eye, and before long, he dismissed himself. 

"What's his problem?" Bella scoffed, watching her brother in law walk away, before turning to you. "Did he get in trouble? He deserves a good punishment, that one. Always thinks his way is right." Narcissa scoffed, nodding in agreement. 

"Just a little tiff, if all. He got angry at me last night for entrusting Snape instead of him. Or...something or another. I'll go check on him, you two stay here. We mustn't listen to conversations that aren't our own." You warned with a smirk, walking to go find him. 

You passed the halls lined with photos of Malfoy's, all the way to the patriarch and matriarch. You found Lucius at his bar, pouring himself a glass of liquor. 

"Drinking before lunch?"

"Following me around?" He mirrored your tone, narrowing his eyes as he took a deep gulp of the honey colored liquid. "Would you like something, My Lady?" He took his lip between his straight teeth, staring at you with a dark, devious sort of tint to his gaze. 

"A fire whisky would be nice. Anything to warm a girl like me up." 

Lucius took note of your flirting, chuckling quietly as he shook his head in the slightest bit. "I'm old enough to be your father, you know."

"But you're not." You purred, taking the mug from him once he finished concocting the cocktail. "It's only...what? Twenty five years? I was never good at arithmetic."

"What's a little arithmetic mean when you're moaning my name?" He whispered, his words coasting through your ears and straight to your belly, igniting your soul into hundreds of thousands of butterflies. If you weren't careful, they'd fly straight out of your mouth. 

"As if I'd ever give you the satisfaction, Lucius Malfoy." 

He was close to you now, between your legs as you sat on the counter, his hands on each side of your thighs. The tension was thick enough to cut, thoughts of sex and feelings of lust dripping from every consonant he uttered. 

"Oh, trust me, my darling girl...you would _definitely_ be satisfied."

You traced your nail across his jaw line, his stubble slowly growing in to his porcelain skin. With a kiss left to the corner of his mouth you slid down from the marble counter top, turning to look up at him. "I never figured you were the type to play with fire, Lucius Malfoy."

"Well, there's much you still have to learn about me, little one."

You relished in the way his lips tilted into their familiar smirk, and you gently touched his chest before turning to walk away. "And there's much you have to learn of me, Lucius Malfoy."

The door shut behind you, leaving Lucius alone, with a whiskey shaking in hand, and desire trickling through his soul.


	2. Red With Regret

Narcissa had _always_ been a friend. You had grown as close as you could with her, yet sometimes your pride got in the way. You liked for things to go your way, you liked to be on top, and you certainly liked to be feared. Having friends ruined the image you had so carefully crafted for yourself, so you decided to call Narcissa your mere acquaintance, if she _was_ even that. Or, perhaps that was you pushing your feelings away. 

Constantly you tried to be someone you weren't, but it was a feeling you had grown so used to you'd say it was who you had become. Feelings for her husband were pushed to the back, and thoughts of him were only thought of during long nights beneath the covers, when your hand was the only company your body kept. You liked it that way yet, for some reason... deep, deep, _deep_ down you wanted more. And in this case, more was called Lucius Malfoy- at least this week it was. 

Malfoy Manor was eerily silent. Another hour and it would be bustling with death eaters, your weekly meeting commencing. At the wide, double set doors you stood, wearing a velvet cape that hid your powdered face and ruby colored lips, what little blush you had on your cheeks glaringly beautiful in the evening sky. Your dress, this week, was as purple as a Plum tree, fitting against your curves and rippling down your hips, dragging behind you in a way that was reminiscent of a sea serpent slithering through the ocean depths. A house elf opened the door, and you greeted him. You were evil, of course, but you certainly weren't rude. After all the help were people too, or in his case, house elves. 

"Lucius!" You sang, snickering as his head turned to you. He broke away from his conversation with Bellatrix about gods only know what, making his way towards you as you stood in the foyer, the dim lighting causing your skin to glow in the most ravishing of ways. 

"You look delectable." Lucius buzzed, licking his lips as he took in your every inch. 

"I've learned how to dress for the occasion." He helped you untie your cape, throwing it at his servant, before watching you with deep set eyes. You slowly flicked the lace gloves off your fingers, one by one, until your diamond rings and ruby gems were shining and dazzling, leaving the imprint of stars in his cerulean hued eyes. 

"As have I." He extended his arm for you and you gladly took it, walking in to the dining hall and sitting at the head of the table. Soon, one by one, your loyal soldiers came trickling in. Severus was last, as he always was, yet he was on time. 

You shot him a wink, and Severus merely clasped his hands in his lap and stared at his plate, eyes narrowed and brows slightly furrowed. 

"Very well, lets begin. First up on the agenda, how is our star, Harry Potter?"

Severus looked up, all eyes on him, and his face contorted with the confident look of determination. "He's as usual. He's proved strong through the tournament, facing the Hungarian Horntail is no easy task yet...somehow...the boy who lived did. Just. That." He pronounced each letter as if it were its own word, turning to glance at you with a simple nod. 

"And our friend Karkaroff?"

"As incompetent as usual."

Lucious scoffed, sipping his wine. "As always."

Severus only nodded in agreement. 

"Enough, boys. Well...shall we start dinner?"

Before you, roasted beef, vegetables and salads were placed throughout the table, the sharing of wine and talk of better days ahead filling your ears and igniting your senses. Yet your mind was elsewhere. Fear was beginning to fill you, and fear turned to hatred, yet you knew you had too much to go on. Too much _hatred_ in your soul. Part of you wished you were never born in to this life, wondering about Potter, how he was given away in a basket to a muggle family. What, then, would have become of you? Would you have gone to Hogwarts, known Dumbledore? Would you have been sorted into Slytherin? Perhaps, deep down, you were Gryffindor, with your brave soul and determined mind. The daughter of Voldemort, fighting for the good guys...in a way, that sounded more powerful than the life you had created for yourself here. 

Of course everyone in the wizarding world knew of you. From Beauxbatons to Durmstrang, all the way to the gossip in the Great Hall of Hogwarts, the name (Y/N) Riddle was one each and every person knew yet...never wanting to admit it... you wished it was said in a more positive light. But that would never be the case, ever. The blood lust for death and power coursed through your veins, you figured it must have been genetic. And, you figured, the person who decided people were raised to be evil, must have never been before a truly evil person. 

You sat, still as stone and cold as ice, before the hand of Severus atop yours made you snap from your thoughts. 

"Were you-"

"No." He whispered, shaking his head. "Not without your permission."

"Oh." You cleared your throat softly and stood, rolling your shoulders slightly before giving him a smile. "How were things at Hogwarts, truly?"

Severus shrugged, taking a small bite of his food. "Fine. As...always."

"Dumbledore must be an idiot not to have figured you out yet, hmm?" 

For a moment, Snape froze, turning to you. "Dumbledore is a great wizard."

"Now that's-"

"Just say you're in love with him." Lucius sneered, momentarily pausing from his conversation with Narcissa. You glared at him, then turned back to Snape, who opened his mouth to speak once again.

"He _is_. To think otherwise would prove to me your stupidity. He is as intelligent as he is skilled but I, my dear (Y/N), am...smarter." You noticed the way his jaw slightly clenched at the end of his sentence, and you smiled ever so softly. 

"That confidence is what I like to hear, Severus. You deserve a bit, hmm? You're braver than any witch or wizard at this table. Your duties do not go unrecognized."

"I'm sure they do not. With a leader as great as you, (Y/N)."

Lucius listened in, and you knew he was, his jealousy was nearly radiating off of his body in troves. Now Snape was decided to be charming? Malfoy wanted to scoff, to scream, to cry out in aggravation. He always got what he wanted, and he wanted _you_. He hadn't always wanted you for himself, nor did he quite know if he would want you a week or two after, but he did know he liked to win. And if Severus was playing the game, of trying to win you over, then Lucius would gladly join. And he would, _gladly_ , destroy his opponents. 

"It isn't polite to listen in, Malfoy."

You turned to him, your eyebrow raising, and the man beside you chuckled confidently. "Why, I would never intrude, my Lady."

"I'm sure you would not."

Narcissa looked in your direction, slowly taking a drink of her wine. Rarely did she sit in on meetings, yet when she did, it was as if she learned something new every day. She had spent many years with Lucius and she had grown quite accustomed to his flirtatious attitude towards younger women, yet his desire was not quite fueled as much as it was on this very night. You met her eye and she smiled quickly, looking away and becoming the quiet, patient woman she so often had to be. 

"Is there anything else on today's agenda?" You asked, everyone turning to look at you. 

They all shook their heads, muttering about themselves. "Very well. After dinner everyone is free to go and do as they please."

You stood, making your way out of the room. The dining hall was grand, the result of old money and acquired wealth, yet it had never felt more suffocating. You weren't exactly sure why it had become so stuffy, but you did know you wanted out. 

Were you feeling...regret? You had yet to do anything with Lucius yet, for some reason, you felt as though it would take all the soap in the world to scrub your sin clean from your bones. You heard someone following you, and you leaned against a wall, composing yourself best you could. You were (Y/N) Riddle, dammit, and no one in the world got to see you struggling. Even Voldemort himself couldn't, nor wouldn't, have the pleasure. 

"Thoughts got the best of you?" 

The sly, conniving voice of Lucius Malfoy slithered in through your ears and straight through your face. You could almost feel his words affecting you, the smirk which tugged at your lips, the darkness which made home in your eyes...he had an unbearable affect on you, and you knew the only solution was to _have_ him for yourself. Damn your guilt, damn your second thoughts, you had never once cared about the well being of others so why would you now? On today, of all days, another ordinary Saturday in the South of England?

You turned to him and grabbed his collar. Lucius looked at you, taken aback, and you grinned up at him alluringly, a twinge of seduction evident in your narrowed eyes. "I know what you want." You murmured, ignoring his previous statement. 

"And what is it that I want, my Lady?"

"Me."

The word rolled from your lips, smacking him right in the face. He looked taken aback for a moment, before he grinned a cat like grin and grabbed you by the waist. "Then have me." Lucius leaned forward, his lips warm against the skin of your ear. "You knew where to find me, darling girl."

Lucius sauntered away as arrogant as a peacock, his nose pert in the air and platinum hair swaying behind him with a certain sense of sass. You groaned and bit down on your lip, realizing that this man would most definitely be the death of you, as well as a certain raven haired man in the room behind you. 

Soon, the house was empty once more, and night had fallen over the manor. At nighttime, the house held a child like wonder within its grasp. The portraits were mysterious, covered by the blanket of twinkling stars and pitch black wind, the floors creaked and the windows rattled. The illusion of planets danced against the walls like Russian ballerinas, providing a relief from the unknown that racked every crevice and corner. 

You walked down to the kitchen alone, each step providing a soft little _reeeeek_ against the mahogany floors, each plank more withered with age than the next. The tile of the kitchen sparkled like pearls as you brewed a kettle of water, a mug and a tea bag set in front of you. You heard someone enter behind you, and you turned to face Lucius. 

As always, he was dressed to the nines, even in his finest pajamas. The matching set was the color of a silver coin, no doubt made from the finest silk the world had to offer. As always, he walked with his cane, and he leaned against it to speak to you, his lips curled. 

"Couldn't sleep?"

You pondered on the question for a moment before almost giggling. "No, I could in fact sleep. But I purposefully woke up to make myself some tea." You sneered sarcastically, and Lucius chuckled softly to himself as he made his way over to you. 

"Alright, alright. I was only making conversation."

"As if you want to talk, Lucius."

He smirked, walking towards you. Your back hit the counter of the kitchen island, and his thick finger tips dragged gently into the exposed skin of your thighs. You had come down in a shirt, and only a shirt, not really expecting any company at the moment, yet here he was. You figured he must have been keeping an eye out for you, and now he had you right where he wanted you. 

Lucius leaned forward, and your noses nearly brushed together. "Is all you want a cuppa tea, darling?" 

"Do you have something else in mind?"

"Oh, yes." Lucius' voice turned raspy, a tug of want dragging from his syllables. His teeth grazed upon the lobe of your ear and you let out a soft moan, _almost_ coming undone beneath him. 

"Pray tell."

"I'm hungry, and I think I want to start my meal with dessert." He grasped ahold of you and placed you on top of the counter, grinning as you giggled softly. 

"You're such an idiot." You purred, his fingers tracing shapes down your thighs. 

"Perhaps I am." 

You stared at him, taking everything in. The warmth of his voice, the iciness of his eyes, the roughness of his hands...you just couldn't take it anymore. You grabbed him by the back of his head and you pulled him down, pressing your lips to his own and kissing him as if you had waited thousands of years to do so. It felt like it, truly. Lucius immediately kissed back, his tongue sliding across your bottom lip frantically. You parted your mouth ever so slightly as he began to fight for dominance over you, his hands wandering your body, as if your skin was a map and he was a lost traveller. There was a certain franticness to his actions, as if he needed all of you, and all of you now, in that single second. 

You moaned, his fingers snaking their way to your neck. Soon, he had you by your neck, making you cry out his name in a tumbled, jumbled moan that didn't quite sound like anything at all. You ran your fingers through his soft hair, your shirt thrown off with a wave of his hand before he pulled away, dipping his head down and taking one of your swollen nipples in to his mouth, sucking and licking like a mad man. You let out a shrill moan reminiscent of a Banshee, grinding against him as he stood between your legs. 

"I knew you'd like this. You just love the attention don't you?" He pushed you back and your back hit the cold granite counter, a gasp wracking your body. "I bet you just devour getting worshipped. You deserve it, you're as beautiful as a goddess."

"And as powerful as one too."

Lucius growled an animalistic growl against the soft skin of your chest, pulling away to look down at you. "Show me. Show me how powerful you are."

Something changed inside of you. Perhaps it was your primal thirst for dominance, or maybe it was something else, but in this moment you wanted to dominate Lucius Malfoy, you wanted to make him cry. You grabbed him by the ear and dragged him to the nearest room, throwing him down on to the creaky bed. Malfoy was taken aback by your strength, which only turned him on more. His pants were so tight they made him wince, and in one swift movement, he was naked before you. 

"You're such a pretty boy, Lucius." You giggled softly, and before he could speak he was bound to the bed, a gag stuffed in his mouth. You climbed on top of him, fully clothed, and traced your nail along the lines of his collarbones, leaning down to kiss one. "But you're even prettier when you beg."

Lucius grunted, bucking his hips up, and you gently held him down with a hand. 

"Now, now my dear boy. We mustn't be impatient. You'll get what you need."

You trailed a finger along his cock, which stood erect and screaming for your attention. If you strained your ears, you could hear his slight whimper, and you smirked knowingly, loving that you had this effect upon a man of such stature. But then again, your stature was higher of course. 

You leaned down and kissed the tip, which was bright red and leaking pre-cum, desperate for your attention, but you wanted to punish Lucius, you wanted to make him suffer for some reason. Perhaps for all of the times he had gotten beneath your skin and on your nerves, or maybe for being a lying scum bag or a horrible father. Whatever the reason, you knew it must have been good, because you didn't want to stop your little rendezvous until he was crying and gasping your name as if it were the only air he needed to live. 

Lucius closed his eyes tight as you wrapped your mouth around his thick tip, slowly bobbing down until you hit the base of his dick. You pulled away, going as slow as your heart desired, repeating this once, then twice, then three times, until you lost track. Lucius was gasping against the gag that bound his mouth, and you quickly got rid of it with only a look. He turned to you, almost salivating. 

"Please. Please!" He begged. 

"Please what, Lucius? You have to use your big boy words."

"I want to cum, (Y/N). Please."

"Hmm..." You thought for a long moment, moving away. "I don't think so."

"Dear Merlin, what will it take for you to give me what you want?!" He hissed, his eyebrows furrowing and eyes narrowing towards you poisonously.

You pondered on the question for a moment, leaning forward until the tips of your noses were touching. "I want you to shut up." You kissed his jaw line, pulling away and standing up beside the bed. Slowly you stripped from your shirt, tossing your bra to the side before lowering your lace panties to the ground, straddling his chest. "And eat my pussy."

And eat, he did. Lucius was a starved man, grunting and groaning like a wild beast as he lapped and licked your pussy, moving and bobbing his head with every movement. He tugged on his restraints, his hips bucking behind you as you grid against him and moaned softly, his eyes watching the way your fingers tweaked and tugged at your hard nipples. Lucius loved the way you tasted, your wetness dripping on to his tongue, sweet as nectar and thick as honey sliding down his throat. 

"Just like that." You set your hand on his head, playing with the sweaty strands of hair that stuck to his forehead. "Such a good boy, aren't you? Eat that pussy." You growled, whining. Your orgasm, was building, and you knew soon you'd be seconds from cumming. 

Lucius sucked your clit into his mouth, his cheeks hollowing- a sign of his dedication. You giggled at his eagerness, before you came, your high hitting you like a freight train going off its tracks. You fell back, moaning as your back hit against the mattress and you recovered from his silver tongue. He snickered like a self righteous asshole, and without looking you gagged him once more, practically hearing him roll his eyes. 

"Now," You sat up and regained yourself, leaning over and wrapping your hand around his cock. "I think you deserve your reward, don't you?"

He nodded, looking at you with eyes full of flooding desire. You began to pump at his hard on, and you knew it wouldn't take long for Lucius to cum all over your hand. No doubt about it. He whimpered against the gag which bound him, and you looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. 

"Do you like that?" You asked softly, quickening your movements. You knew the answer, you just wanted to see him come undone for you. 

Lucius nodded quickly and you pumped harder, before he was cumming in spurts against your hand, grunting and grinding his cock into the softness of your palm. You giggled and cleaned off your hand, glancing at him as you met his ocean eyes. "That didn't take long, hmm?"

He rolled his eyes, and you quickly swiped his restraints away, watching as he untied the material which restricted his mouth. "Well," he snarled, "it's easy to cum when a woman who knows what she wants is pleasuring you, isn't it?"

You giggled, giddy with childish excitement. "Riveting, isn't it?"

"There's nothing more powerful than a woman on a mission." His buttery voice was laced with humor as he stood, putting his clothes on. 

Someone walked through the door as you slid your shirt on, and you saw Narcissa standing there. Her face was blank, void of any emotion. 

"How long?" She asked. There was no emotion in her eyes. 

You stood, staring at her. Your gut was wrenching, but you didn't quite know what was brewing inside of it. Were you guilty for cheating on someone you considered a friend? Were you angry at her for ruining your moment? Were you indifferent, annoyed, aggravated, horomonal? You couldn't quite pin point it. 

Lucius stood there, dumbfounded. "It was a one time thing, really."

You swallowed thickly, a lump in your throat beginning to form. "Narcissa..."

She regained her posture, straightening her shoulders. "You're (Y/N) Riddle. You get whatever you want... _even_ married men." Her tone was flat but you knew her voice shivered with bitterness. 

"That's no way to talk to-" Lucius scorned, yet you cut him off. 

"No. No...Narcissa is right. This was a mistake." You blinked, realizing that for once you were in the wrong, that this situation should have stopped before it ever even began, and you knew in that moment you were guilty, suddenly feeling sticky with the shame of your sin. "I'm going to leave now. I'll be back next week but...I shouldn't have stayed here."

Of course you weren't going to apologize, your pride would get in the way, but you had to leave. The mansion was starting to feel more like a cottage, and your chest was tight and your hands were shaking with what you could only describe as _regret_. You left, heavy rain beginning to fall as you grabbed your broom, unsure of where you were going to go next. You let your mind take you where you knew you'd always be welcomed, where you knew it would always feel like home. 

Spinner's End. 


	3. Christmas in Cokeworth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is canon divergent and slightly AU. Yes, I know Snape rarely leaves Hogwarts. Yes, I know the Yule Ball happens on Christmas. Just read the story and PRETEND something different happened. I know my Harry Potter, y'all! Don't fret my lovelies. <3 <3 <3

Spinner's End smelled like spilled oil and rotting vegetables, yet every holiday Snape came back to the home he was raised in. Bad memories lingered in the air like the stench of sour milk, but it was the only place on earth that he could find solitude. Solitude from the antics of Harry Potter and his band of dunderheads, solitude from the prowess of Dumbledore and the thoughts of Voldemort, solitude from the world which raged around him. He enjoyed the loneliness, the comfort of the cold air and the hot fireplace, the smell of leather bound books and slow burning candles. It was his own slice of heaven that he had so carefully crafted for himself. Deep down he knew there was one thing, and one thing only, that would make his safe haven even more delectable: You.

It was a late night, meetings at Malfoy Manor always resulted in late nights, and Snape found himself unable to sleep. He brewed a kettle of water, pouring the boiling liquid over a tea bag with milk and sugar, stirring and sitting in the familiar softness of a yellow chair. 

Tomorrow was Christmas Eve. Like every year, he spent it alone- not like he minded all that much. He sat, the cuppa beside him and a book in hand. Although not many knew, Snape wasn't pure blood, and he had acquired a taste for muggle literature, specifically one of a woman named Jane Austen. 

His onyx eyes traced over the words on the page, over and over again repeating them in his head. Slowly at first, then as quickly as he could. 

_"Then I examined my own heart, and there you were. Never, I fear, to be removed."_

Immediately, Severus thought of you, and he knew in his heart of hearts that you were the woman he had grown to love, forgetting all about the roughness of his past. Lily was dead. She had been dead. And, until that very moment on this very night, Severus had not come to terms with that fact, which was as simple as a piece of parchment. 

There was a loud knock on his door, and for a moment his heart pounded within its cage before he regained his posture. He hid the book beneath a cushion and grabbed his wand, slowly walking to the door as he hid the instrument behind his broad back. Slowly he opened it, and before him- almost as if it were _magic_ \- you stood gazing upon him. Water was dripping from you, creating a puddle on the hallway floor. 

"(Y/N)?" He was dumbfounded, at a complete loss for words. 

"Severus. I-I-" You shivered, rubbing your arms. "I would really appreciate it if you would let me in."

"Oh, yes. Of course." He closed the door behind you and grabbed a blanket, gently draping it across your shoulders. "Why are you... _here_?" He enunciated, the words slowly melting away from the roof of his mouth as he brewed, yet again, another cup for you, sliding the chamomile tea your way. 

"Can't visit my dearest friend?" You asked sarcastically, drinking from the mug, liking how the warm liquid trailed down your throat in the most comforting of ways. You watched Snape look at you with a gaze of inquiry, and you sighed softly. "I made a mistake."

Snape almost found that laughable. You, of all people, admitting to a mistake? It was almost as if he were being set up, as if you were wearing a microphone and speaking lines someone told you to say through an ear piece. Severus stepped towards you, sitting on the floor beside you, his back pressed against the sofa along with your own. Your thigh was touching his, the side of your bodies melding in to one. "Talk to me."

The comfort of his voice was almost too much, and if you were someone who cried, you knew you would be breaking into sobs at the moment. "I'm not the type to feel guilty." You began to explain, and you saw Snape nod as he agreed with you. "But tonight I made a mistake. A mistake that would damn me to hell if there was one. It was so...it was so blazingly obvious what we were doing was wrong, but I couldn't help myself. It was lust, it was thirst. I felt the most primeval of feelings, something that every creature must feel."

He was confused, yet he was listening. "What are you talking about?" His voice was barely a whisper, quiet and patient. It was a nice change from the hectic nature of the evening you had just experienced. 

In fact, all of Severus' home was. It was completely different from Malfoy Manor, a home so large it was almost as if you could get lost inside with no hope of ever being found again. Yet his home was tiny and cozy, full of walls of books and handmade rugs, warm, absinthe colored lights and knitted blankets passed down from his mother, no doubt. It smelled of Severus Snape too, a nice change from the incense Narcissa was always burning. The air was flavored with the subtle hints of pinewood and lavender, and it made your chest soften with each blow. 

"Lucius and I..."

You didn't need to speak any further, Severus already knew what you were going to say. You looked up at him, expecting him to order you to leave his house, to lock the door right behind you. For once in your life you no longer in control, you knew in that moment your emotions were guiding you, as they had been doing all week. 

"And Narcissa?" He asked quietly, biting down gently on his lip. 

"I don't know. I left before she could..." Your words drifted off, your mind completely blank. All you wanted was rest, a comfortable bed, a gentle soul. Someone like Severus to take care of you, for tonight, for the week, for the months to come. You finally came to terms with everything in that one simple moment. You didn't want to be (Y/N) Riddle. You wanted your last name changed, and Snape had always had a nice ring to it. You wanted to be unrecognizable in the streets, just another face in the crowd, away from the bustle of gossip and life of darkness you had grown so accustomed to. In fact, you would rather be a squib than the powerful wizard you were known as, if it meant your ties with Voldemort would be broken once and for all. 

"Your mind is heavy, (Y/N)." He gently grabbed your hand, standing up and pulling you to your feet with him. "You need rest."

Severus guided you to his room, the only room in the house, and you looked around curiously. 

It was neat inside, besides the peeling wallpaper and water stained floor boards, everything was almost squeaky clean. There was a simple black wardrobe against the wall, a rug that had been freshly vacuumed, and two bed side tables. One with a stack of bookmarked papers, and another with a quiet ticking clock and candle. Severus helped you beneath this quaint quilt, your head resting atop a stack of feathered pillows that smelled of his cologne. He turned to the door before you called out for him. 

"Wait!"

He turned to face you, raising an eyebrow. 

"Wait. Stay with me, please. I need you here with me." Your voice cracked slightly, and the look in his inky eyes softened in the gentlest of ways as he walked towards you. 

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Severus settled his body into the bed beside you, turning on his side to face you. His hair was shaggy with drowsiness, his hand tucked beneath his neck as he stared at you, trying to figure you out. He wondered what had caused you to be so shaken, what was going on inside of your head. Severus knew how easy it would be to just enter into your thoughts without knocking, but you trusted him and, although he didn't agree with anything you stood for, he too trusted you. 

"Why does it always take you so long to get to our meetings?" You asked quietly, and in the night air Severus could see your eyes beginning to swell with tears. 

He thought for a long, hard moment, and deep within himself he knew you knew the answer. You knew, and a part of you had _always_ known. His jaw tightened as he swallowed a lump thumping in his throat, and he blinked once, then twice, then closed his eyes with a sense of finality. "Because..." But he trailed off. Severus couldn't bring himself to do it, not right now. So you took the reigns, and you answered your question for him. 

" _Because you're not actually a Death Eater. You get information and you tell it to Dumbledore, don't you_?" You entered his mind, speaking to him. Some things were too impure to speak of out loud. 

Severus kept his eyes closed, and you shut your in turn. All he said to you was: " _Yes_."

" _How long has this been going on for_?"

" _Since Lily died. You were just a baby_."

You let out a soft breath of air, wanting to laugh. " _My whole life you've been lying to me_?"

Severus felt a twinge of regret, but not you. In a new found sense, in a completely different light, you respected Severus so much more. He was around evil, he lurked in the darkness for more than half of his life and...he never really believed it. He never really was, truly- deep inside- evil, the way you were. You were jealous of him, you were jealous of his will, his unwavering persistence for Dumbledore, for his lost love of Lily. You felt a tear slide down your cheek, and Severus didn't even have to look to know you were crying, he knew you that well. He reached out and found the softness of your skin, wiping away the stray tear. 

" _I have been_." He confessed, his hand cupping your face. " _But I wasn't given much of a choice_."

" _Yes, you were. We're always given choices, but they aren't always laid out for us the way we wish. I've always thought I was forced to be what my father wanted me to be, that I had to follow in his footsteps, be like him, even though he's been gone for so long. I could have run off, I could have talked to Dumbledore. I...could have been like you."_

_"You don't want to be like me, (Y/N)."_

_"What? I don't want to be brave, courageous?"_ Your lips bent into a soft smile, and you felt his thumb stroke against your cheek. 

Severus was close to you know, your chest touching. His arm rested against your hip, his palm on your face. It was the most intimate you had ever, in your life, been with someone before. Sex was nothing compared to what you felt now, complete and total trust, as if your soul was his and his alone, and in turn, he was for your eyes only. 

" _You don't want to be stuck in the middle, (Y/N). It isn't a good place to be._ "

"I _could be stuck there...with you._ "

Your eyes fluttered open at the same time, and he stared at you with a look of tenderness you had never seen come from him before. 

"What now?" Severus spoke softly, his voice echoing inside of the small room. 

"I don't know."

There was a long bout of silence, and you hesitantly rested your chin on his shoulder, your fingers running through his hair slowly. He sighed a heavy sigh, thinking to himself. Snape wondered if you weren't acting out towards his confession because of the emptiness you felt from Malfoy, thinking that perhaps when you woke up tomorrow, you would kill him on sight. He didn't know if he would mind that or not, to be quite honest. You looked up at him with innocent doe eyes, and Snape saw the way your eyelashes curled against your cheek with every blink, and the slight sparkle in your pretty, colorful orbs. He didn't understand how someone as beautiful as you, with such an adolescent streak to your views and feelings, could ever be so evil, so powerful...

Severus had seen you do unspeakable things, things that even Voldemort himself probably couldn't do. He's seen you wave your wand and cut men into hundreds of pieces, he's seen you scream Avada Kedavra without an ounce of repentance. You've tortured spies for hours on end and laughed at their screams, you've demolished their tears before they ever even began. Snape saw you sit on a seventh year Hogwarts student and carve words into their skin, he's seen you giggle at weeps and laugh at murder. 

But in this light, in the faint shimmer of the stars that flowed in through the river, the hue reminiscent of water at night, you looked as though you couldn't hurt a fly. Your face was bare and your hair fell down the sides of your face in a pretty sort of way, a way that reminded him of a bride on her wedding day, and your tiny hand shook against his own every time he reached to hold them. 

"I love you." He blurted out, and you sat up in the night. He watched as your back straightened, and you scoffed ever so softly. 

"What happened to your flower, Lily?"

Severus sat up as well, slowly gulping down the bundle of nerves which formed in his throat. "I-...for eighteen years she's been gone, and for the next eighteen years, she'll be gone as well. I may be a master of potions but I can't-I can't bring people back from the dead. No matter how hard I try. But you, my darling (Y/N), you've been in front of me the whole time. I was blind."

"As was I."

"What do you mean..."

"I want to be like you. I-I can't do this anymore." Your voice scratched against the roof of your mouth as you slumped against his chest, the flood gates of your sadness and lack of empathy opening to reveal a tsunami of your tears, sobs racking your body, your emotions slamming against you with more power than you had ever felt before in your life. 

His arms wrapped around you, and Severus cradled your body against his own chest, shushing you softly and allowing you your moment to let yourself loose. 

"I'm a horrible person!" You stuttered out, hiccuping against him. 

"You are."

You gasped, slapping his shoulder. "I-I want to feel better you j-jerk!" You cried out in agony. 

"What do you want me to say? You've done the worst things I have... _ever_ seen. But...a long time ago someone told me that-that there is _always_ time to change." He pushed your chin up, your eyes locking as he spoke to you, and you wiped off your face with the back of your hand and groaned softly. 

"Do I still have time?"

"Yes. Be careful. Voldemort is not a man to trifle with."

"Do you think he would..?"

Severus nodded, you didn't need to finish your sentence for him to know what you were talking about. The wizard would do anything he could to become all powerful, even if it meant murdering his own flesh and blood. "Without a doubt he would. He's coming back. Soon. You have little time to figure out where you stand."

"Where do you stand?"

"With Dumbledore, as always. He's a forgiving man, he'll welcome you."

"No. No. I have to do this myself."

"But-"

"Will you help me?" He stared at you for a moment and your eyebrows creased together. "Severus Snape, please. I need your help. You're my closest friend in the whole world, I-I'll do anything, I'll give you anything you ask for."

"You need not give me anything. I shall help you from the kindness... of my heart." He declared his stance quietly, his words slow yet meaningful, and you threw your arms around him in response, hugging him tightly to your body. 

"Thank you." You breathed out quietly. 

His previous comment did not go unnoticed. He loved you. Did he mean it romantically? Did Severus love you the way a friend loves another? The way a brother loves a sister? The way a husband loves his mistress? You weren't quite sure, and a part of you was too nervous to ask. That night you fell asleep, close and tight in his arms, and you awoke the next morning to the smell of Earl Grey tea and sprigs of holly. 

You walked out into the main room, finding Snape behind a cauldron, brewing something with a book open in front of him. He didn't look at the words, he only threw random things inside, and old memories came rushing into your mind, thoughts of better days, when you were younger and would play outside. Always by yourself, but never quite alone. 

"Drink this." He slid you a mug of whatever he poured from the pot. 

"What is it?"

"It's good...it'll make you feel better."

You brought the cup to your mouth, and the taste of chocolate slid down your throat, followed by cinnamon, peppermint, vanilla...old flavors that reminded you of what your life should have been. You should be a different person, you shouldn't be the monster you gaze upon in the mirror. Your Christmas Eve's as a child should have been full of a doting mother with soft hands, and a clean shaven father who got the week off from work. They should have taught you how to write letters to Saint Nick, how to create little spells from your wand that would bring forth flurries of snow and spurts of sparkling, golden hued light. Yet you never got the satisfaction. You were stuck in a rut, from the moment of your creation, from the time of your birth, you had been told you would fulfill everything your father craved, by his side, never to stray. 

It was too early for those thoughts. You shrugged them off and took a seat in the soft sofa of his living room, staring out the window. Dark smoke billowed from chimneys, the bricks chipping and falling to muddy, sludge covered grounds. Snow had fallen, blanketing the scene before you with pure white, untouched by any muggle or magician alike. 

Severus sat down beside you, a blanket of quietness wrapping around the both of you. There was no conversation happening, nor was there a need for one. His shoulder resting against yours, with your eyes over looking the same view of the village, was just enough for you. 

In fact you were so comfortable you felt like falling asleep once more, but something was tugging within you, a feeling of something that you could only label as stress. 

Stress for what the future would hold, stress for yourself and the man beside you. 

You looked at him, blinking softly, before looking back out the window. "I love you, too." You finally answered. 

Severus grabbed your hand in response, holding it tightly within his own. He didn't speak- there was no need to. 

The sky was swirling with oranges and pinks, and when the tug of hunger burst through your stomach, you realized you two had sat the whole day away, just staring at the world before you. 

There was something so quaint, so peasant like about the picture which had been painted in Cokeworth. People went about their day to day lives, participating in the most mundane of tasks. They got married young, gave birth, and died. They worked their days away and came back home late in the evening, with calloused palms and greasy cheeks, knotted hair and tired feet. And, something about that, gave you a sense of curiosity you had never quite known. Just for a day you wanted to know what went on in their heads, you wanted to know how they felt, what they did, the things they were passionate about...you wanted to know their names, their birthdays. 

It wasn't until Severus grabbed your arm that you realized you were crying. You sniffled, shaking your head ever so slightly. Snape had never seen you so wrecked before, it was as though you were slowly killing yourself from within with the thoughts of your past sins. 

"Stop thinking about it." He commanded. 

You nodded, interlocking your fingers within his own. "I can't."

"You can. I _did_."

With confusion evident in your eyes, you glanced at Snape, and he turned to face you slowly. 

"My regret almost killed me, after Lily died. I figured that it was all my fault. If I were only quicker, if I had never become...a death eater. All of those thoughts that killed me, day by day, they ate me away, each and every one. You learn to get used to the pain...you learn to cope. If I could, you can- you're stronger than I'll ever be."

You listened carefully and intently to each word, appreciative of how Severus was barring his soul to you, his soul that was as naked as the day he was born, and you leaned in against him, holding him tightly. You ended up cradling his head in your lap, absentmindedly playing with his hair as he breathed in the scent of your familiar perfume. 

"Christmas is tomorrow." You commented softly. "I have a present for you, but I wan't you to open it now."

He sat up, his eyebrows furrowing. "I didn't get you anyth-"

"It's okay. Your company is the greatest gift you can give." You reached into your pocket and pulled out a velvet blue pouch, showing him the silver ring. It depicted a serpent eating its own tail, the metal detailed with ridges of scales and deep cut eyes. You slid it on to his pinky and smiled up at him. "It's called an Ouroboros. It symbolizes eternity."

He fiddled with it, turning it over and around his finger. He didn't speak for a moment, so you decided to fill the silence. 

"Lucius...he always wears rings. And I figured you needed one, too. So I got you this. I saw it while I was traveling one day and it reminded me of you, and I completely forgot about it until a few days ago when Lucius said something about you-I just..." You swallowed, and he glanced your way, meeting your eyes with his own. 

"I love it."

"Yeah." You let out a nervous giggle and rubbed the back of your neck, glancing awkwardly up at the ceiling. "Yeah, me too."

"I'll wear it until the day I die."

"A long time from now." You whispered, even though you knew it wouldn't be. Not with the tale of the Elder Wand, not with the war you knew was brewing, not with the imminent return of your father. You knew one day he would be taken from you, but you didn't want to think of that right now. 

Severus grabbed his wand and waved it towards his palm, and you watched as he created a glass flower from his palm, sparkling and glimmering in the light, and you watched as he multiplied them until they created a bracelet. He gently grabbed your hand, clasping it around you. It gleamed beautifully against the tone of your warm skin, glowing in the ambient light of his house, and he smiled ever so softly. 

"My mother...when I was a little boy...taught me all about flowers. And this was her favorite, a white iris. They represent purity."

You glanced down at the bracelet, and up to him, tears forming in your eyes and blurring your gaze. "But I'm not-"

"You are now. You've washed your past away."

With a sniffle you nodded, leaning in and holding him tightly to you. A lot was going wrong in your world. There was a married man who craved your heart, an evil father returning from his grave, and a war on the brink of destroying your universe. Yet in this moment you knew, that no matter how many fires were started and cities were destroyed, Severus Snape would always be your one constant, a hero as brave as a Gryffindor and as loyal as a Hufflepuff. 


End file.
